


Trapped

by Galadriel1717 (Galadriel1010)



Category: Class (TV 2016)
Genre: Alien Abduction, Eggpreg, Impregnation, Inflation, Other, Oviposition, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9608648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel1010/pseuds/Galadriel1717
Summary: Sometimes the Bunghole Defence Squad find things that go bump in the night. This time the things found Matteusz, and he's at their mercy.Read the tags and warnings, seriously.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: If you clicked on this by accident thinking that Class fic is sweet and fluffy, find your backbutton. This is not those things.
> 
> If you're just here for the tentacles and oviposition, step right up.
> 
> Thank you to whoever beta'd this thing, and to the person who requested it.

Matteusz woke slowly and reluctantly. The more awake he was, the more everything hurt. He was bruised everywhere, and had friction burns against his arm and part of his stomach, like he'd been dragged to… wherever he was. A small, dirty window high above his head let in enough grey light for him to see that the room he was in was nearly empty. Just a few metal shelves with a couple of tins of paint against the walls. His head spun and throbbed, and he had to rest it between his knees to try and fight back a surge of nausea, but he wanted to get out of there as soon as he could.

Of course, because their lives were like that now, as soon as he could wasn't soon enough. He heard a slithering noise behind him, and the click click click of claws on the metal shelves. The creature, scaly and lizard-like in a completely alien way, slithered towards him with its eyes fixed on him. He backed up, away from it, but his hand landed on something sharp, maybe a nail or a piece of glass, and once he'd got over the instinctive reaction of pulling his hand back and checking it - no blood, just a pinprick of bright pain - the strange creature was on him, and it bit his arm, hard. Its teeth marks joined another matching set on the other arm, and within seconds, during which he tried and failed to shove the thing off him, his head went even lighter and he slumped to the floor. Soon he couldn't even move his fingers, as something like paralysis swept through him. Only his eyes still moved, and he closed them tightly, so he couldn't see the creature moving around, and wouldn't see the surely inevitable fading of his vision as he died.

He opened them again when he felt a tugging at his clothes, and tried to yelp as sharp clothes ripped his T shirt open. It wasn't one he particularly liked - he'd learned by now not to wear clothes he liked to creep around the school at night - but that was not the point at all. He wanted to struggle and throw it off, especially as it moved down and started ripping at his jeans and underwear, but he couldn't even twitch, and all he could do was hope, desperately, that Charlie or Quill would find him soon. Before he was eaten alive.

His heartbeat hammered in his ears, drowning out his panting breaths, but the lizard thing just slithered away, behind the shelves towards the other side of the room. Although he couldn't do more than grunt, Matteusz filled the time by thinking through his entire, extensive, list of swear words in Polish, English and Quill. Charlie thought he was innocent and pure, bless him. Charlie… Matteusz's heart skipped just thinking about him, and he willed his boyfriend to find him before it was too late.

Judging by the sound of something larger and heavier, with bigger claws that went clack clack clack instead of click click click, dragging itself towards him, too late had arrived. He looked around as far as he could, but his field of vision was limited to the ceiling above him, a light fitting without a bulb, and the tops of the walls and shelving units. When something slimy and cold touched his foot he started to panic in earnest, chest heaving with his desperate breaths, heart beating so fast he felt sure the creature would be able to see it hammering in his chest.

The wet slimy thing moved further up his leg, pulling it to the side, and another pushed at the other leg, spreading them apart. He had no control, no way to bring them back together, push the thing off or even lift his head to see it. His breath caught in his throat as he felt it move up to between his thighs, the sticky residue growing tacky all the way up his legs. Something poked at him, gently at first and then harder, pushing him into position so he was exposed, his arse… He whined, it was the best he could do, and closed his eyes again, tears spilling hot down his face. Suddenly, being eaten seemed like the better alternative.

It found his hole and pushed in, meeting no resistance from the ring of muscle. Somewhere, a rational but slightly hysterical part of his brain worked out that his muscles were all relaxed, not paralysed. If they were paralysed, that would have hurt a lot. The creature, whatever it was, wasn't gentle, but there was just discomfort and a sting, like when he'd put his hand on that piece of glass or nail or whatever it was. He was so completely, unwillingly, relaxed, and its entrance was aided by the cold, sticky fluids. A sob rose from his chest and he wanted to scream and thrash and run, but all he could do was lie there and cry as it pushed in deeper and deeper, thicker and thicker, stretching him open to the point where it really did hurt, where he could feel it burrowing inside him. It thrust and twisted suddenly, and the movement jerked his body so his head fell to the side, neck now wrenched at an uncomfortable angle. Grit and grime from the floor stuck to the tears on his cheek, and he couldn't do anything to stop himself drooling onto the floor. Another jerk and he gave in, tears flowing freely as he felt it move in his abdomen.

When it started to withdraw he started crying harder with abject relief, but it was premature. It didn't pull out completely, just settled inside him and sat there, pulsing gently. And then he felt something else against his hole. He wanted and didn't want to look, but he could only stare at the wall - and the tennis ball abandoned under the shelves - whilst this new thing pushed at him. As it breached him, stretching him wider than ever and forcing a cry from his slack lips, that rationally hysterical part of his mind worked out that it was an egg. An egg, being pushed into him, being pushed deeper and deeper to where the tentacle or whatever the fuck it was had stretched him out and made space for it. And then another, forced into him, it felt like it was the size of the tennis ball but surely it couldn't be. Even Charlie felt like more than he could take some nights, and fuck, the last thing he needed was to think about that right now. He tried to think of the least sexy things he could, and it turned out that being stuffed full of eggs by some unseen lizard creature was the least sexy thing that could happen to him, no matter that it was some bad parody of sexual intimacy. He didn't count, refused to keep track, but of course he knew that there were seven eggs in his gut by the time the creature was done, stretching his stomach far beyond uncomfortable.

The tentacle, it must be a tentacle, pushed into him again, pushing the eggs deeper. He could feel it moving them around, like he was just some nest for it to rear its brood in. When it was satisfied with the arrangement, that they were deep enough inside him, it withdrew and slithered away, leaving him stretched and sore and aching, cock twitching despite everything because of the ridiculous pressure on his prostate for the last however long it was. It felt like an eternity. He lay, immobile, on the concrete floor, tears cold on his cheeks now but still flowing down across his face, nose running and adding to the mess. Between his thighs was cold and wet, and probably sticky. He must have looked absolutely wrecked, and embarrassment added another layer of nausea to everything else he was feeling. He wanted to throw up, but with no control over his body it would probably have killed him, and he didn't want that. Not quite.

The smaller creature - the male, perhaps - came clicking back towards him, crawling over his legs so he felt the pin-sharp pricks of claws against bare skin. It nudged against him, something smaller and hot flicking against him and into his stretched hole, almost intimate in its delicacy. He closed his eyes again and sobbed, and it moved again, crawling up his abdomen to settle on the swell of the eggs. If he rolled his eyes he could just see its head, but nothing more than that. He didn't know if that was better or worse. Definitely worse was the feeling of something else pushing into his hole, but it was thinner than the last and didn't hurt or put pressure on his prostate, so he could handle it. It wasn't okay, but it didn't make him want to scream, not after what he'd already gone through. The creature flexed against him, claws digging in tighter, and he felt the discomfort build as it… filled him with its sperm. Fertilising the eggs inside him.

Hysteria took over and his breathing got out of control, the edges of his vision went fuzzy and a ringing started in his ears as he began to hyperventilate. He was only vaguely aware, as he slipped into unconsciousness, of the whine of the laser gun and the heavy weight of the creature slumping, dead, across him. Too late.


End file.
